The New York Underground
by sabra jaguar
Summary: Well, if turtle ninjas want to help Murdock rescue his teammates, who is he to refuse their help? Rated T just to be safe.


A/n: Because the thought of Murdock and Mikey together was impossible to resist. 80s A-Team, but personality-wise the turtles are more 2003 version in my mind. Thanks to Mikell, who graciously agreed to read this through for me. Her input is always greatly appreciated. And none of these characters are mine. Constructive criticism welcomed!

* * *

"Sure thing, Hannibal. I'll just wander the New York City sewers and listen to you an' Face an' B.A. get caught by our pals the bad guys. Sounds like a plan, mon Capitan... er, Colonel..."

Unfortunately, Hannibal was not there to hear the complaint. Murdock picked his way through the sewers, slogging through calf-deep water at times and muttering to himself all the while. He might not be as fastidious about his wardrobe as Face could be, but he was certain his caretakers at the V.A. hospital would not appreciate having to wash the lovely aroma that his clothes now carried out of them. Right now all he wanted to do was rescue the rest of the team and grab a shower-but not before he gave B.A. a great big sewage-smelling hug, of course. Maybe he'd give Face one, too—the look of utter horror on the face of the fashionable man as Armani met sewer sludge would be absolutely priceless.

Well, maybe he would be kind to _them_. They were at least fairly innocent in the plot to send Murdock down underground, where he'd just recently gotten the gag-reflex under control. Not that he hadn't seen, smelled, or been in worse places than this, but it wasn't exactly a place he would have gone by choice. No, sir, Hannibal was the one who made the choice for him. The colonel had been studying several maps that Face had collected for him while he was formulating his plan, and looked up from them with that gleam in his eye that the rest of the team all dreaded... the _Jazz._

"All right, we're gonna hit these slimeballs on two fronts. Me, Face, and B.A. will go through the front door—" Face's groan and B.A.'s scowl punctuated his cheerful statement. "Now Murdock, I want you to come at them from—"

"The sky, Hannibal?" Murdock asked, puppy-like in his eagerness to get his hands on a helicopter or any reasonable facsimile. He deepened his voice as he narrated what he had hoped would be his own future exploits, "Swooping down upon the evil-doers, raining death and destruction upon all those who would dare oppose the forces of good..."

Hannibal had looked over at his hyperactive pilot and given him an apologetic smile. "Afraid not, Captain. You're hitting them from below. The building has a basement that connects directly with the sewer system."

Murdock's face fell. "Aww, why me, Hannibal? You know me; I was destined for the skies, not the sewers! Can't fit a chopper in them bitty little tunnels..."

Hannibal answered, "Because, I don't want to hear Face going on about his dry-cleaning bill, B.A. would have a tougher time fitting through the manhole cover, and _I_ am your commanding officer." The last he added with an infuriating grin wrapped around his ever-present cigar.

Murdock looked to the others for support, but only got a sympathetic glance from Face which barely hid the I'm-glad-it's-you-and-not-me expression, and B.A. just snickered at Murdock's discomfort. The big man probably considered it a little bit of payback for all the times the team had forced him onto a plane against his will, with Murdock at the controls.

"But Hannibal, you know all those gators down there are just waiting to eat me!" It was a plea born of desperation, Murdock knew, but he had no choice. Hannibal needed to know exactly what Murdock would be up against, even if the colonel refused to heed the warning.

"Gators, Murdock?" Face hesitantly asked, in a tone that suggested he really didn't want an explanation.

"You know, all the baby gators bought as pets that get flushed when they get too big They're down there, just waiting for unwary people to come along so they can eat them..." Murdock tried to look as wide-eyed and victim-like as possible, hoping against hope that Hannibal would take pity on him and reconsider his plan to send the pilot into the depths of the earth.

Face coughed delicately. "Ahh, you do realize that is an urban legend, don't you, Murdock?

"Besides," Hannibal added, "if you know they're down there, then you are not an unwary person, so they're not actually waiting for you, now, are they?" He directed another evil grin at Murdock, and the pilot knew his fate was sealed.

_Sky, sunshine, fresh air... it was nice knowin' ya..._

* * *

As with a good many of Hannibal's initial plans, this one fell apart almost the moment after it was conceived. Murdock slid through the manhole (vaguely wishing he was following a white rabbit down a much more pleasant rabbit hole instead) and had just barely touched bottom when he heard the sounds of a scuffle beginning above his head.

Trash cans rattled as one of his teammates was tossed into them. Another body thudded against the brick walls of the alleyway. Murdock jumped back on the ladder, ready to rush to his team's aid, even if it meant getting captured alongside them. Already beginning his climb, he stopped at the sound of Hannibal s voice.

"Face, B.A.! Stand down! There's too many of them to take on alone. The _three_ of us surrender."

Message received. Murdock stayed where he was, trembling helplessly at the halfway point as his teammates got roughed up by thugs who obviously enjoyed their work. Then came a deeper, more menacing voice than Hannibal's saying something that sounded predictably villainous, something about their boss wanting to talk to the men who were messing with his operation...

* * *

"Okay, now where was that tunnel I was s'posed to be lookin' for? S'pose this'd be a good way to practice spelunking... Can't see no rats around, so I guess the gators musta got 'em all. Hope they ain't lookin' for an alternate food supply..." He looked off to the side at empty space, and talked over the sound of dripping water, "Billy, you make sure to bark if you see any of those alligators, okay, boy?" Murdock's imaginary dog did not respond, but a strange feeling crept over the pilot, as though something was watching him, something not quite so imaginary.

"Oh, man..." Murdock moaned quietly. "Now why can't anybody let a fellow take a nice little stroll through the sewers in peace?" He was completely out in the open and already keyed-up from having to listen helplessly to the rest of his team get captured. The pilot began talking to himself again to try to calm down and to fill the silence. "Ain't nobody here but us chickens, so you might as well find someone else to sneak up on..."

Suddenly a body thudded down directly behind him. Murdock jumped a foot into the air. Before he could turn around, another figure appeared right in front of him and spun him around, shoving him face-first into the wall and pinning him down with a heavy hand.

Murdock groaned. So much for his daring rescue of the team. Now all he could do was hope that his captors threw him in with the others and that Hannibal could come up with a decent escape plan.

"What are ya sneakin' around here for?" A deep voice growled in his ear, the hand pressing him harder against the rough stone.

Murdock laughed nervously. "Hi, uh, would you believe I come down here to wrestle alligators?"

To his surprise, one of his captors snorted back a laugh at his response. "Shut up, Mikey, I'm tryin' to talk to this guy," the growling voice spoke again.

The other voice answered, (and Murdock could practically hear the grin in his words,) "Aww, lighten up, bro. Does this dude look like the 'Hey, I want to take over the world and dissect the turtles cuz I'm totally evil' type? Maybe he's just lost or needs help like April did when we first found her. Give the guy a break, Raph."

"Yeah, um I mean, can't you help a poor, lost mental patient," Murdock said, giving the wall a puppy-dog look that he hoped somehow conveyed itself into his tone of voice. "I just wandered down here and my meds ran out, an' all I want to do is go home, okay? I don't want to cause any trouble or nothin'..."

"Yeah," the growling voice said sarcastically, "Ya don't want to cause trouble, then what's up with the peashooter, here?" Another hard shove, and Murdock sighed hopelessly. It was pretty hard to persuade a person of your friendly intentions when you hauled around a semi-automatic assault rifle.

Taking a chance that the more cheerful captor might be on his side, Murdock decided to give them at least part of the truth. "Look, me an' my friends were hired to help out this family in trouble with some local bad guys. But now the local bad guys got my friends and I'm just trying to rescue them, okay? Ain't looking to hurt nobody, I just want to get my team back..."

Suddenly he felt hands grabbing his shoulders and he was spun around roughly, coming face-to-face with... with...

Murdock's eyes opened wide at the sight of his captors, and he moaned, "If Face or B.A. or Hannibal were here, would you guys look like giant turtles to them, too?"

The one called Mikey shrugged his shoulders. "Well, that's kinda what we are, dude."

Murdock's quick mind began to process the new information it was receiving. "You're not hallucinations or nothing like that?" he asked warily. After all, Sherlock Holmes always said when you ruled out the impossible, whatever remained had to be the answer. No matter how weird it was.

"Sorry, pal, we're real." Raph (definitely what Murdock would picture a Raph to look like) scowled, crossing his arms over his plated chest. "Now, you want to get the screamin' and faintin' part over with? I got other stuff I could be doin' today."

Instead, Murdock's face broke out in a wide, relieved grin. "Hey, that's great! Here I thought I was gonna have a lot more issues to work on with Dr. Richter in my next therapy session."

Raph's arms dropped to his sides and he shot a confused look at Mikey. He recovered quickly, glaring at Murdock as he poked a thick finger in the center of Murdock's colorful t-shirt. (A gesture that would been intimidating if Murdock had not already developed immunity from frequent exposure to B.A.'s trademark glare.) "You tell anyone about us, we'll hunt ya down, pal. We don't need nobody else knowin' about us."

"Aw, don't worry about me," Murdock replied breezily. "I'm gonna tell everyone I know about you guys! Hannibal will ignore me, Face will play along for a while 'til he's tired of humorin' my flights of fancy, an' B.A.— " Murdock's eyes closed and he sighed in pure bliss at the thought of the threatened pounding from a properly motivated B.A. Baracus. He just loved goading the big guy. "—B.A.'s gonna say, 'Fool! Ain't no talkin' turtles down in them sewahs! Stop ya jibber-jabber 'fore I pound you, sucka!'" Murdock grinned maniacally at the two turtles. "By the time I'm done, they'll be wishin' I was seein' invisible dogs again!"

It was now Raph and Mikey's turn to stare at their odd interloper. "You're about as crazy as Mikey!" Raph finally said, shaking his head in wonder at the thought.

Murdock's smile turned smug. "Bet I'm crazier, got my own room in the psych ward at the V.A. hospital an' everything. Now I gotta go rescue the Colonel and Face and that big, ugly mudsucker before the bad guys rough 'em up too bad, so if you all will excuse me..."

Mikey and Raph gave each other a long look, and then Raph pulled the other turtle aside. Murdock watched the two get into a heated discussion over him, something about not wanting him wandering around on his own, stumbling onto a hidden lair...

After a few minutes, minds apparently made up, the two turtles walked back over in Murdock's direction. "This better not be a trap," Raph said with a scowl that reminded Murdock of B.A.'s normal facial expression.

Mikey leaned up against the slime-coated stone wall and grinned casually. "What Raph's trying to say is we're gonna help you find your friends. Besides, my bro here's been looking for a good fight for a while now..."

Raph cracked his knuckles and smirked as he pulled out some type of communication device. "Hey, Fearless, you an' Donnie up for some exercise?"

* * *

Murdock pounded on the backdoor leading into the old warehouse, the warehouse that Hannibal's maps said was the bad guys' base of operations, and where presumably his teammates were held. Leo, the leader of the turtles, had adopted parts of Hannibal's plan, reversing the roles Hannibal assigned. The turtles were the ones sneaking in underground. Murdock, on the other hand, was supposed to get noticed. He was the distraction, and he was going to be very sure the bad guys heard him.

"Hey! Bad guys in there! You got most of my team wrapped up already. Don't you want the whole package? You're missing one rare, one of a kind, limited edition H.M. Murdock! Why don't you come out here and collect the full set!

The door flew open. Murdock aimed his Ruger Mini-14 into the mass of thugs inside and grinned maniacally. "I come fully accessorized," he added, giving the rifle's barrel a loving pat. "Now, you boys can take what I got to give you, or you can see what those guys are offering!"

Weapons drawn, four turtle... ninjas stood in the center of the room.

Murdock smiled wider as the thugs stared for a moment. He heard one man swear. "What are those things?"

"Forget that. Let's get 'em!"

One goon rushed Murdock, trying to gain control of the rifle. Murdock reversed his grip, bringing it down to bash his attacker in the head. While Murdock was distracted, more of the hired muscle took on the turtles.

Raphael twisted his sais in the length of chain one thug wielded and ripped it from his hands. He sent the chain flying at another hulk targeting Michelangelo. The chain wrapped around the man's legs, tripping him up. Mikey brought his nunchucks down on the man's skull. The massive human crashed to the floor, out of the fight.

Raphael spun around and kicked his opponent in the gut, sending him flying into the wall. The man collapsed in a pile of boxes and lay still. Raph grinned fiercely. "Anyone else wanna try?" He took a hit to the jaw which made him smile more. "Good. I wanted a real fight!"

The other two turtles, Donatello and Leonardo, stood back-to-back. Don rammed his bo staff into his thug's gut and swept it around the back of his other foe's legs. He twirled his weapon around, readied for his next battle. Leo's swords flashed as he brought them around, blocking the knife his opponent threw at his chest. He smirked as the small blade clattered to the floor.

"Now isn't there something people say about bringing a knife to a swordfight?"

"I think it's actually a gunfight they say that about..." Don answered absently, focused on his current attacker. "Coming behind you, Leo!"

Don ducked down as the man punched at his throat, the man's fist connecting with Leo's shell instead. Leo braced himself at Don's warning, his hard carapace absorbing the impact. The attacker howled in pain as he clutched his broken hand. Donnie punched upwards, hitting the man's solar plexus. The man curled in on himself as he staggered back and Don leapt forward and kicked out, his foot connecting with the man's head.

Leo's opponent ran at him. The turtle dodged the man's fist as it came flying at his face, before catching his hand in a vise-like grip. Bones cracked as Leo tightened his hold and the man dropped to his knees with an agonized scream. Grabbing his wrist, Leo threw him over his shoulder. Donatello ducked again and Mikey laughed as Leo's attacker went flying over his head, taking one of Raph's down with him.

"Dude. When a turtle thinks you're too slow, that's kinda sad..." Mikey's nunchuck's wrapped around his thug's wrist and Mikey swung him around like a shotput, his attacker soon joining Leo's in the pile of trash heaped in the corner.

Murdock applauded when the last thug had fallen. The turtles' skill was incredible. Murdock and his own team were very good at what they did as well, but the grace and precision the mutant turtles showed was truly something to behold, and he was glad he'd had the opportunity to fight alongside them. If only he could introduce them to his team. He knew B.A. would love to compare van upgrades with Donatello, and Murdock was sure he and Mikey would have a great time winding up B.A. and Raphael. Face would certainly be impressed with their scrounging skills... Unfortunately, he understood why the turtles would not want to reveal themselves, even to the men they'd just helped rescue. Murdock stepped over the thugs he'd left groaning on the floor to join the turtles.

"Incredible bit of rescuing. Really A-plus material, couldn't have gone better. In fact..." Murdock frowned, realizing something that disturbed him. "Don't want to be critical, but that was too smooth for an A-team rescue. It just needs that finishing touch..."

He took out his rifle and aimed above their heads. Bullets sprayed the walls, blasting holes in the cement blocks and flinging the broken bits in the air like confetti. "Much better," he sighed in satisfaction. "Don't seem right for a rescue to be that quiet..."

The turtles glanced at each other. Leonardo looked as though he wanted to say something, but thought better of it. "That's gonna get some attention," he said instead. He turned to Murdock. "Find your friends. We can't be discovered here."

"Gotcha, amigo," Murdock said, reaching out to shake the turtle's leathery hand. "My team and me can't stick around too long either, with Colonel Decker on our tails. Thanks for your help. Would have been a little bit trickier taking down the bad dudes without you guys."

Leo nodded, throwing a smoke pellet to the floor. By the time the air cleared, the turtles had vanished.

After the turtles had disappeared out of sight, Murdock located the storeroom that imprisoned his teammates. "Now, how happy are you guys to see me?" he said with a mischievous grin.

The team exited their prison in a daze, stunned to see the war zone that the warehouse had become, and _Murdock_ apparently the one responsible for the bodies strewn about the room, the hired goons already tied up for delivery to the police. How could an A-Team rescue have been accomplished so efficiently? The pilot enjoyed his team's bewilderment.

"Nice, Murdock. Not a bad bit of rescuing," Hannibal said finally, after hunting down and lighting up one of his beloved cigars that had been confiscated when he was captured.

"Hannibal had a plan," Face added, "but it would have been a bit harder to execute. Funny how these guys didn't want to leave the stuff for Molotov cocktails just lying around..."

"Crazy man's plan worked better than Hannibal's woulda," B.A. shook his head. "Fool actually done good."

"Aw, you do care!" Murdock gave BA a hug. Great, big and sewage-smelling. B.A. pushed him away in disgust.

"Get off me or my fist's gonna show you how much I care!"

Hannibal grinned, ignoring the two. "That was just the back-up idea, just in case. Murdock was the main plan, and he came through perfectly."

Murdock rubbed the back of his head modestly at his team's praise. "Well, you know, Hannibal, I did have some help out there. See, there are these mutant turtles that live down in the sewers, and they helped me find you guys, and they used their awesome ninja skills to take out the bad guys so I could come get you out, so I really can't take all the credit..."

The three rescued members of the team gave each other a long glance during the explanation. Face found his voice first, and smiled indulgently at Murdock. Clapping a hand on the pilot s shoulder, he said, "Well, at least they weren't mutant alligators."

High above the heads of the A-Team, another group of four watched the men congratulate Murdock, tensing up a bit as Murdock revealed their existence, and relaxed as they overheard the last statement. Mikey grinned at his brothers mischievously. "You think we oughtta introduce them to Leatherhead?"

* * *

The police officers at the scene shook their heads in amazement at the sight: thirty men neatly tied up and deposited on the floor of the deserted warehouse building. One officer saw something white pinned to the most prominent of the men and pulled it off, reading the paper with a puzzled frown.

"These men are bad guys. Please give them a good home with lots of iron bars on the windows and doors. Signed, the A-Team." What the officer really didn't understand was why they had drawn a caricature of a turtle underneath.

He handed the note to his partner, who shrugged. "Well, at least it ain't from that spider..."


End file.
